Candles of Life I
by Gill Jr
Summary: Scully is sick with her cancer again, and has just one month to live.


**Title:** Cand  
  
Author:  
  
E-mail Address:  
  
**Rating:** NC-17  
  
Category: TRA  
  
Spoilers: The whole Scully cancer arc, basically.  
  
Keywords: CHARACTER DEATH, MSR, Adventure  
  
Summary: Scully is sick with her cancer again, and has just one month to live.  
  
Disclaimer:  Mulder, Scully, and any other X-Files character that I mention in this story belong to CC, 1013, Fox, and the talented actors who portray them. No infringement intended.  
  
Author's Notes: I just want everyone to know that despite the fact that this is a character death fanfic, I would recommend you read it. It is not depressing, (honestly, I think I handled it well), and throughout most of the story, there are many happy times. I, myself, don't even like to read Mulder or Scully death fanfic, unless it is extremely well-written. And this story, IMHO, is very well written. it is my longest one yet, and hopefully, my best one yet. So please, read it! :)  
  
Feedback: A must-have!! Please, if you take the time to read this, would you take just a few minutes to let me know what you thought of it? I will read letters of encouragement, constructive criticism, but I WILL delete flames. Be kind! :)  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~35 Candles~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
**_A fanfic by Gill, Jr.  
  
_**When Dana Scully woke up that morning, she felt something trickle down her lip. She knew instantly what it was.  
  
She tried to get out of bed, but found it took a lot of energy. But she pushed herself up and then positioned herself so she was sitting on the edge of the bed. She slowly dabbed her finger under her nose and felt the wetnes. She then lowered her finger to her line of vision and cringed at the sight of the single, crimson drop. She looked down and then realized for the first time that her t-shirt also had blood on it...a lot of it. Her eyes then traveled over her pillow. There were traces of blood there, as well as on the sheets. There was more blood there than there had ever been before. Shocked, she got up and walked to the bathroom, each slow step matching the beats of her heart. She picked a wash cloth out of the linin closet, ran the water in her sink, and stripped off her blood-stained t-shirt; the usual routine. Wetting the washcloth under the cold water, she lightly dabbed at the skin above her lip. Never looking away from her reflection in the mirror, she dabbed at the trail of blood that went from her nose, to her lip, to her chin, to her neck, to her breast. She then went back into her bedroom and gathered up her sheets. She hoped washing them would get the stains out. If not, she would have to buy a new set. What did it really matter? Her cancer had returned. She felt her eyes sting, a familiar feeling, and let herself fall to the floor, crying.  
  
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Dana awoke a few hours later, finding herself curled up in the fetal position. She quickly touched her nose. No nosebleed this time. Shaking her head, she got up and stepped into her bathroom, ready to take a bath. Not a shower. She needed the peace and tranquility of a bubblebath to clear her mind. As if that was possible.  
  
She scanned the row of bubblebath fluids in the glass containers. She picked up the white one. Vanilla. It was her favorite. She filled up the tub with warm water and poured a tiny portion of the bottle into the steaming water. She then took off her remaining clothes and climbed into the water, which was now almost filled to the brim. She reached forward and turned off the faucet. She sunk down into the water, so her whole body was submerged except her head, hoping the water would strip her of her shock, worry, or maybe even help her get away from life, itself.   
  
came an inner voice.  
  
For the second time that morning, she felt her eyes sting with tears. She sunk all the way down into the water, whispering, "Oh, God..."  
  
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As soon as Dana got out of the tub, she called her doctor, Dr. Phillip Kantor. She got the receptionist.  
  
"You've reached the office of Dr. Phillip Kantor, how may I help you?" the secretary said so fast, Dana almost had trouble understanding her.  
  
"Yes, I need to schedule an appointment. It's urgent that I come in immediately."  
  
"Name, please?"  
  
"Dana Scully."  
  
"Okay, what day and what time would be good for you?"  
  
"Well, actually, I'd like to see him *today...*"  
  
"Okay, that's fine," said the receptionist. "Is 3:00 good?"  
  
"Yes, that's fine. Thank you."  
  
"Buh-bye."  
  
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Shock. That was the first thing that had registered in her mind when she'd been given her prognosis.  
  
She walked through the doors of her apartment building and rode the elevator up to her room. She walked slowly down the hall. Time seemed to slow, along with her heart, the beats in synchrony with her footfalls. Shock.  
  
She took out her keys and opened the door. She walked inside and threw her keys on the coffee table. She then shut the door, but did not move. With her back against the door, she slid down slowly, until she was sitting on the floor. Shock.  
  
She sat there for the longest time, until she decided she'd have to do what she'd dreaded most; tell Mulder.  
  
It was then that she wished she had psychokinetic power to make her phone magically lift off the table and go into her hands. The blood they'd drawn, and all the other tests they'd done had left her weakened. She forced herself up and picked up the phone, dialing Mulder's number. She kicked off her shoes and stretched out on the couch. the phone seemed to ring on forever until she heard his voice: "Hi, this is Fox Mulder. Leave a message, please."  
  
she thought. _ She was just about to hang up when the answering machine was cut off by someone picking up the phone.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Mulder. It's me," she said.  
  
"Oh, hey, Scully. Is...something wrong?"  
  
she thought, but did not say aloud. She knew her news would scare him; she didn't want to make matters worse. God, how did he always know when something was wrong?!  
  
Without giving him a 'yes' or 'no' answer, she said, "I need to talk to you."  
  
"Now?" he asked.  
  
"Yes. Now."  she thought.  
  
"Okay. I'll be right over."  
  
"Okay," Scully murmured, barely above a whisper.  
  
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Scully hung up the phone and then stretched out on her couch, waiting for Mulder to come. She didn't know how she would tell him. She didn't know how she'd tell *anyone*. But, as hard as it was, she'd have to do it. Sighing, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.  
  
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Scully was startled out of her sleep by the sound of knocking at her door. She yelled, "Coming!" and got up to answer the door. As expected, it was Mulder. Opening the door, she forced a smile.  
  
"Come on in," she said to him, gesturing towards the inside of her apartment. He stepped in and waited for her to tell him it was O.K. to sit down.  
  
"Have a seat." She followed behind him to the couch. Mulder took a seat on the far end, but turned himself so that he could look at her when she talked.  
  
Scully delved right into the conversation, knowing it would just be easier to get it over with.  
  
"I woke up with blood on my pillow this morning, Mulder."  
  
Instantly, Mulder went pale.  
  
"We can, we can give you tests, though, Scully! You'll be allright!" Scully shook her head slowly.  
  
"Not this time." Mulder's jaw dropped open.  
  
"Mulder..." she continued, "Mulder, I went to the doctor today. He said..." she bit her lip, no longer able to control her emotions. Before she could finish her sentence, a tear fell from her eye and trailed down her face. "He said..."  
  
"It's okay, Scully, go on," he urged, though he, too, knew he was close to tears.  
  
"He said that I'm dying and have three weeks to live."  
  
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After the words were out of her mouth, Dana felt herself break down. She put her head in her lap and wrapped her arms around her knees, shaking violently from the sobs that wracked her.  
  
Mulder moved forward on the couch and reached out for her. Scully quickly let go of herself and reached for him, wrapping her arms around his neck. She clung to him as if she were drowning. Mulder buried his face in her hair and stroked the titian strands while his other hand did the same to her back. His tears fell then, despite his will.  
  
"Shh, shh. It's okay, Dana, it's allright. It's allright," he whispered to her over and over. Hearing this lie she wished so desperately were true, she clung even tighter to him. After a while, she realized it was time to let go.   
  
She gave hime one last, assuring squeeze, and then slowly withdrew from him. She went back to the position she was in before and put her chin on her knees, trying to gather her thoughts. Sensing that she wanted to speak again, Mulder sat there, patiently.  
  
"Mulder, I feel that...that we should spend as much time together as possible. I don't know when exactly I'll go...I might not even have a month. I need you to be with me when I die," she said, taking his hand.  
  
Mulder nodded, silently agreeing with her. She continued on.  
  
"I know it's extremely hard for both of us, now. I think we need each other so that we can deal with this. Mulder...what I'm trying to say is...I think you should move in with me for the month."  
  
Mulder nodded again, once again, in agreement with her.  
  
"You want me to get my stuff back at my apartment, pick something up for us to eat, and come back here?" he asked, knowing that she was too weak and emotionally strung-up to cook.  
  
Scully looked up at him and nodded, but did not speak.  
  
"Okay," mulder breathed. He got up from the couch and touched her arm.  
  
"I'll be right back," he promised. He then walked out of her apartment, to h is car, and drove home.  
  
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He opened the door to his apartment. The door flung back from the force of hitting the wall, and came back, slowly closing. Absent-mindedly, he stuck his food out to stop it. He studied his apartment as a stranger, as an outsider, knowing that this would probably be the last time he'd see it before Scully died. Before half of himself would be missing. Before his worst nightmare came to life.  
  
Putting the ugly thoughts aside, he walked into his apartment and past his coffee table. A glinting object caught his eye. He was just about to go into his bedroom, but his feet protested, and his eyes stayed glued to the object. He lifted it up off the table and studied the object's sleek curves and contours. It fit perfectly on his fingers, and the cold, cold metal felt so good on his skin. He slowly lifted the black object to his temple. Oh, how good it would feel! He closed his eyes. If he killed himself, all his troubles and worries would go away. He wouldn't have to keep searching for the truth, for Samantha. He wouldn't have to live with the guilt of his sister's abduction, or Scully's. He wouldn't have to see her die. Freedom. Plain and simple. Freedom. And all it would take was one pull of the trigger. He stood there, desperately trying to clear his mind so he could go through with it. But her face came into his mind. He shook his head violently, trying to forget about her. But it did not work. Her face came back again to haunt him. She had a grip on him and would not let go. And then, he knew it. If he took his life, so would she. He could not live without her, and she could do no different without him. The thought of Scully, *his* Scully, committing suicide repulsed him. The thought of her dying in any way repulsed him. Yet he knew that she was going to die soon, anyway. If he killed himself, she would kill herself, and it would all be his fault.  
  
He ripped the gun away from his head and slammed it down on the table beside him. A sudden range of emotions overtook him at once, causing him to kick at the door with all his strength, only to fall to the floor. he felt the tears coming and pounded his fists into the floor.  
  
"Why?" he sobbed to no one in particular.  
  
"Why?" he asked again, crying even harder.  
  
Her image enterted his head once again. "Scully..." And that was all it took for him to flip over the edge, bawling and desperately pleading like he never had before.  
  
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Mulder came out of his trance nearly a half hour later. He hadn't been asleep, yet he was close to it. He'd been crying half the time, bawling like a baby. And when the tears subsided, he fell silent, staring at the hard wooden floor beneath him, not a single thought in his mind. But it wasn't long before the spell was broken and he rose up to start gathering his things to take to Scully's. He started in the bathroom first, taking his soap, shampoo, shaving cream and razor, toothbrush, and comb. After double-checking to make sure he had everything he needed, he went to his bedroom. He was about to pick up his pillow to take along, but then he remembered that Scully had an extra pillow or two that he could use. He took his deoderant off his dresser and threw it into his bag, along with his cologne. He then took out his suitcase and packed every outfit he had. He scanned his apartment one last time and then decided he was ready to go. He took one last look at the apartment before slamming the door shut.  
  
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Scully sat on her couch wondering where the heck Mulder was. He'd been gone for over two hours! He said he was going to bring his things from his apartment and pick up some food.  
  
she thought. Suddenly, a terrible thought entered her mind.   
  
As if that wasn't bad enough, the image of him putting that revolver to his head that happened not so long ago entered her mind.  
  
she assured herself. But she knew, in reality, he would.  
  
Her mother and sister had told her how sad and depressed he'd been when she'd gone away. He was only half a man...so brittle and unstable. She knew that if she'd died in that hospital bed, he would have killed himself, for sure. Their lives had become so entwined together, that they could not live without each other. Their bond was incredibly strong, even through near-death.  
  
Melissa had told her on more than one occasion that she believed that her and Fox were soul mates. Oh, she'd denied it, allright. She'd denied it at the first mention. Being the professional, no-nonsense woman she was, she told Melissa that she didn't share in her beliefs that they were soul mates, and that even if they were, things would just never work out. But a small part of her knew that there definitely *was* something between them and flirted with the thought that they just might be soul mates. And now she was sure of it. She was head-over-heels in love with him, and she knew he was, too. He'd gone all the way to Antartica with only a parka, snow-mobile, and a syringe to save her. He was given vague directions as to where to find her. He was lucky, oh, so very lucky to stumble into that hole underground that led to the spaceship. And in her heart, she knew that he would travel the universe for her. He would swim to the bottom of any ocean for her. And, as much as he hated it, he would walk through fire for her.   
  
He would kill himself for her.  
  
As that last, horrifying thought entered her mind, she heard a knock at her door. Her heart leapt into her throat. She jogged to the door and looked into the peephole. It was Mulder.   
  
She let out the breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding in. She opened the door immediately and hugged him, right there in her hallway. He was still holding his carry-on, a bag of food, and his suitcase, but he quickly set it all down so he could hug her back. She squeezed him so hard, he could hardly breathe. But it felt really good.  
  
"mulder, I'm so glad you're home!"  
  
he thought.   
  
"Sorry it took me so long," he said when she released him. She took his carry-on and suitcase and set it down by her coffee table, letting him get the bag of curiously good-smelling food.  
  
"What took you so long?" Scully asked, getting up to shut the front door.  
  
"Um, traffic," he lied. Even before he said it, he knew that she wouldn't believe it. But she said nothing.  
  
"I, uh, brought us some Chinese take-out. Your favorite," he grinned, trying to change the subject and lighten the mood a little.  
  
"Oh, good!" Scully smiled slightly.  
  
"I'll go to the kitchen and get out the silverware," he said, already starting to get up. She put her hand on his arm. "That's okay. I'll take care of this."  
  
"You really shouldn't - "  
  
She cut him off. "This is *my* house. *You're* the guest. *I'll* get it? And with that, she was off. Mulder cringed. She was just trying to show him that she was strong. The 'I'm fine' routine. He hoped she wouldn't be like this for the rest of their time together...  
  
Just then, Scully came out with two plates, two sets of silverware, and two napkins, setting them down on the coffee table in front of them.  
  
"What do you want to drink?" she asked him.  
  
"Water's fine." Scully nodded and walked back into the kitchen. She came back with two large glasses of water and set them down on the table before them. She sat down next to him on the couch and said, "Go ahead and start," encouraging him to start dividing out the Chinese food.  
  
Saying nothing, he reached inside the bag and pulled out the container that held the entree, Won Ton soup.  
  
"We'll need two bowls," he said, knowing that she'd be willing to get it. She nodded and went back to the kitchen.  
  
And that's the way dinner went. Not much talking ensued. But the near-silence wasn't uncomfortable. They didn't need to talk. What they needed was simply the presence of each other, which was just about all they had.  
  
Scully dabbed at her mouth with her napkin and then leaned back against the couch.  
  
"That was great, Mulder. Thanks." She let herself smile a little.  
  
"Yeah, that was pretty good, wasn't it?" he asked, looking over at her. She nodded in agreement.  
  
After a few more minutes passed, Mulder asked, "So...what do you want to do now?"  
  
Scully paused to think. "Well, I guess I have to tell my family, the sooner the better...Skinner, too. I guess I'll call them now." She looked back at him for approval. He got up from the couch, nodded, and said, "Okay." He went into the kitchen so she could have her privacy in the living room. But he could hear her voice as she said, "Hi, Mom. It's Dana. I've...got something to tell you..."  
  
It was going to be a long, hard night.  
  
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Mulder yawned. Scully had been on the phone for a few hours now, and all he'd been able to do was put his head in his hands and wait for her to finish. He knew it would take her a while, and he respected that, but he was extremely tired, both physically and emotionally. He definitely needed his sleep. Speaking of which, he wondered where he was going to sleep. He really hoped he wouldn't end up on the couch. Just then, he heard Scully say 'goodbye' and hung up the phone.  
  
"I'm done, Mulder!" she called.  
  
"Okay!" he called back as he stood to stretch. He walked back into the living room, stifling another yawn.  
  
"Tired?" Scully asked, noticing his yawn. He nodded in response.  
  
"Me, too," she said. "Let's go to bed."  
  
Mulder thought.  But he wasn't totally sure. He decided it would be safe to ask.  
  
"Where do you want me to sleep?"  
  
She smiled. "Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt if you slept with me...would it?"  
  
He shrugged his shoulders. "Guess not."  
  
She smiled again. "Okay, just as long as you don't steal the covers."  
  
"No problem," he beamed.  
  
"You can change in my room. Just put your dirty clothes on the floor. I'll pick them up for you and put them in the hamper as soon as I'm done changing in the bathroom."  
  
"Okay," he said, following her into the bedroom. He watched her take out her PJ's and leave with them in her hand.  
  
He felt weird taking off his t-shirt in her bedroom. This was only the second time he'd been in her room. The other time was when his father was shot. He had come to her with his father's blood smeared on his shirt, slightly disoriented and highly feverish due to the LSDM he'd ingested. He was sick, and she'd taken care of him. She was the one stripping him. She was the one calling the shots. Come to think of it, she was calling them again because she told him it was okay to unchange in her room and sleep with her in her own bed. He then finished changing and then stood there, clad only in his black boxers. It was then that Scully stepped out of the bathroom wearing boxers, herself, and a grey tank top. He picked his clothes off the floor and handed them to her. She went back into the bathroom to put them in the hamper and came back seconds later.   
  
"Ready?" she asked him, getting ready to flip the light switch.  
  
"Ready when you are," he said. She then shut the lights off and walked over to the window to open her curtains. The moon outside was full, and cast a dull light on the bed. She then walked back to the bed and said, "Hop in!"  
  
Mulder finally climbed in bed, then, relishing the feel of the soft covers against his skin.   
  
After his mysterious water bed leaked, he went back to sleeping on his couch. Even though he was used to sleeping on his couch that he'd slept on for years, the bed was so much nicer. Scully's bed was very welcoming to him.  
  
"Goodnight, Scully," he said, already close to falling asleep.  
  
"Goodnight, Mulder." She reached out and caressed his face. She held her hand there and gazed deep into his eyes, smiling at him. He reached his arm out and stroked the arm that was holding his face, smiling into her eyes as she did the same. She then released him and moved back to her side. She saw his eyes close, the hint of a smile still on his face. That beautiful face. She watched him for a good amount of time, watching the rise and fall of his chest, watching his feet move slightly, and watching his mouth part as he fell asleep. She studied his lips, those perfect, full, lips that were now emitting a tiny snoring sound. She smiled and then turned over on her other side, hoping to sleep a restful sleep.  
  
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Scully woke up at 9 a.m. She yawned a good yawn and looked over at Mulder, who was still sleeping. It felt so good to sleep in for once, but bad, once she remembered why she didn't have to wake up early to go to work. A part of her wanted to be there right then. She'd feel secure there, as if none of this had ever happened. But she knew she couldn't. She knew she needed to be at home, resting, and spending time with the ones she loved.  
  
Skinner had been totally understanding about her and Mulder taking time off to be together. He'd offered his condolences to her and had told her to 'take it easy.' And she honestly had every intention to do so. But she figured she'd better get the heavy-duty stuff out of the way first, which was why she was going shopping that day.  
  
She slowly crept out of bed, careful not to wake her sleeping partner. She then went into the bathroom to shower and start her day.  
  
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Scully walked over to her coffee table and grabbed her keys, completing her mental checklist. She had also left a note on the table for Mulder, letting him know that she'd gone shopping. But where, she hadn't told him. Nope! He couldn't know where she was shopping or what she was buying. Not this time.  
  
Smiling to herself, she quietly closed her front door and walked out of her apartment complex to her patiently awaiting car.  
  
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Her first stop was at a furniture store called Bailey's. She picked out a shopping cart and wheeled it through the aisles until she'd found what she was looking for.  
  
she thought to herself. For the second thing she needed, she had to go to the opposite side of the store. It took her a long time, but she finally found what she was looking for.  
  
She then went in line, bought her stuff, and left to go to one last store.  
  
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Scully's last stop of the day was at a tiny store, simply called, 'The Shoppe.' She went inside and immediately picked out a mini shopping cart. She would *definitely* need it.  
  
Since the place was so small, it only took her a few minutes to find what she was looking for.   
  
When she went up to the front desk, the clerk gave her an awkward look because of her purchase. Patiently, she waited for the clerk to finish up. It took a while. When he'd finally finished and had bagged her order, she said a terse 'Thank you' and grabbed a complimentary pack of matches on her way out.  
  
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When Scully got home, Mulder was up, sitting on her couch while watching TV.  
  
she thought. She had with her a light bag that she took over to her bedroom.  
  
"Hi, Mulder," she said on her way in.  
  
"Hey, Scully. Whatcha got there?" he inquired, still paying more attention to what was on TV.  
  
"Oh, nothing." She walked out of her bedroom and past Mulder on the couch and said, "I'll be back."  
  
She went back out to her car and brought back a bag much heavier than the one before it. She really hoped she'd escape Mulder's radar.  
  
She considered walking slow. Nah. He'd see her and what she had way too easily. She then considered walking fast. But then, he'd think that something was up. She decided to compromise with herself and walk somewhere between those two speeds.  
  
He looked at her, but then turned his attention back to the TV screen.  
  
she thought to herself. "I just need to get one more thing, Mulder," she said before going to her car for the last time.  
  
She was worried mostly about bringing up this last thing. It was so heavy, and in such a big box, Mulder would almost definitely be able to see her. She knew about his inquiring mind. Oh, Lord.  
  
She climbed her way slowly up the stairs until she got to her front door. She had to actually set the box down in order to open her door. Somehow, she made it in. Now, for the hard part: sneaking past Mulder. She stalked slowly up to the couch, crouching, and looking from side to side, checked for nothing and no one. And for some reason, she had the theme from 'Mission: Impossible' going through her head.  
  
She finally got close enough to the couch to peer over it, at Mulder. But what she saw was no one. He wasn't there! Where was he?  
  
It was then that Scully heard the sound of her toilet flushing.  
  
  
  
She made a mad dash for her room, hoping that she'd get the heavy box in her closet before he came out. She was lucky that he washed his hands for a long time.  
  
then, Mulder came out of the bathroom. Scully stood there with her hands clasped neatly behind her back, an innocent-looking grin upon her face.  
  
"Want some lunch?" she asked, still grinning.  
  
XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX  
  
Lunch went pretty well that day. Scully was relieved that Mulder hadn't asked her about the bags and box she'd brought in.  
  
she'd thought,  When in reality, he hadn't. He knew Scully was keeping something from him. It wasn't like her to do that. She usually wasn't so secretive. He knew exactly where she'd put her stuff. He'd probably have plenty of opportunities to find out what it was, but he wouldn't. He doubted Scully would be keeping secrets near the time of her death. He trusted that she'd open up to him later.   
  
they'd spent much of the rest of the day not doing too much. Scully was still full of energy, so she made dinner that night. She made spaghetti. Later on, while sitting on the sofa in the living room, Scully announced, "Im' bored."  
  
"Me, too," Mulder agreed.  
  
"Well, I have a pretty big tape collection. Wanna watch a movie?" she asked.  
  
"Sure. Let's see what you got." He got up with her to go to the cabinet next to the TV which held dozens and dozens of movies. Mulder scanned the titles...Durango, Pretty Woman, October Sky...ah-ha! The Exorcist.  
  
"Hey, Scully, what about 'The Exorcist'?"  
  
"Sounds good. Good choice, Mulder!"  
  
"Why, thank you," he mocked. She lightly elbowed him and put the tape in the VCR.  
  
XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX  
  
Both Mulder and Scully were dog tired after watching the movie. But especially Scully. She got up from the couch and grasped Mulder's hand.   
  
"Come on, Mulder. Let's go to bed."  
  
She helped pull him off the couch and onto his feet.  
  
"I'll get my pajamas and change in the bathroom. Same routine as last night," she explained.  
  
Mulder yawned and nodded at the same time. "Gotcha," he said, following after her to the bedroom. He again waited for her to get her stuff and go into the bathroom. He stripped down to his boxers and soon after, Scully knocked upon the door.  
  
"Are you decent, Mulder?"  
  
"Yeah. Come on in!" he said. She opened the door then and showed herself. She was wearing a short, white nightgown.   
  
he thought,   
  
Little did he know, Scully was having the same thoughts about him.  
  
"All set?" she asked, absolutely ready to shut off the lights so he couldn't see the blush he'd caused to creep up her face. It was so hard to look at her partner in his boxers. But it was *quite* an indulgence.  
  
"Yeah," was his reply. He climbed into bed, then, as she shut the lights off. She climbed into her side of the bed moments later. She reached for her water on the nightstand next to her and took a tiny sip. She then settled herself under the covers, lying on her back. Even though she was extremely tired, she found that she could not sleep. She knew exactly why, too. It was because she needed to be closer to Mulder. They were always worried about their jobs, their professionalism, let alone their lives, that it was rare that they got to share those few, sweet, intimate moments. They both treasured each one.  
  
Scully thought.   
  
She looked at him. He had the covers up to his waist, exposing his chest to  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
